


Said and Done

by hideunspoken



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, warning: age difference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:49:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideunspoken/pseuds/hideunspoken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt goes home to Lima for his final summer break before graduation from NYADA and meets the new resident of the Hudson/Hummel household, Sam, a friend of his younger step-brother, Finn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Minor Age Difference (Kurt is 22; Sam is 17)

Falling in love with anyone was the last thing on Kurt Hummel’s to do list. He’d experienced it once before, and it ended in a completely gut wrenching heartbreak, so painful it was something only pure, young love could bring. Then, he thought he was maybe experiencing it a second time when timing and unfortunate circumstances took it from him before it could really bloom.  
By the time Kurt entered his second semester of NYADA he was already so completely worn out from it that he made the conscious decision to avoid romantic love for the time being. He went on dates, casual dates with casual sex, but never allowed anything more. Then, he went from avoiding it for the time being to just avoiding it altogether, so long that he’d finished up his first semester of his final year with a current fling that was more of a friend with benefits, perfectly happy to be leaving him behind in New York for the summer.  
Kurt was packing for his return to Lima for a few months, excited at the prospect of getting a long break from school and everything that came with it. When he came back it’d be one final semester before graduating in December and moving on to the real world where getting a part here and there while taking his classes wasn’t how the world worked anymore. It’d become his career, and while that excited him to no end, he was equally as terrified for that final step into adulthood, where his career was all he had.  
So, Kurt organized and packed and cleaned, ignoring Rachel’s occasional comment on what she’d be able to do with a free apartment for almost three months, interspersed with her getting teary-eyed and waxing poetic about the sadness their coming separation would bring. Somehow, some way, Kurt’s strongest attachment to a person apart from his father was one very loud, very dramatic Rachel Berry. She was the only person in New York that he felt real dread in parting from, and while she was planning a couple weeks out in Lima to visit her family as well, it was going to be quite a change to be waking up in his little closed off bedroom in Ohio, unable to hear her doing scales in the shower over the partitions in their apartment or humming some tune while making coffee, sometimes with accompanying movement noises that told him she was cheerful and dancing around the loft.  
Rachel was hugging him tightly, restricting the arms he desperately needed for packing purposes—his flight was less than twenty-four hours away, and he was getting anxious—when his phone rang, his dad calling him.  
They went through their regular greetings, discussing things like weather-appropriate clothes and ideas for family bonding when his dad reminded him of their fairly recent house-guest.  
“And I’m having Sam stay on the sofa while you’re here, so you get your room and everything,” his dad told him.  
“Who?”  
“Sam Evans,” Burt reminded. “The kid we took in a couple months ago because his parents moved.”  
“Oh, right. I didn’t know he was still living there, I guess.”  
“Yeah, well, the kid’s got one more year of high school left after this one’s over in a month. I wouldn’t want to leave my friends at that time, either.”  
Kurt hummed agreeingly, distracted by two pairs of similarly looking navy blue shorts and trying to decide which to bring. The ones with the white threading? Or the gray?  
He said his good-byes to his dad, expressing his excitement at the fact he’d be seeing him shortly, seeing all of them, really. He’d quite missed his step-mother, Carole, as well, as it’d been several months since he’d seen her, and he was even finding that he missed Finn’s presence as well. His younger step-brother, dopey in an adorable kind of way, was someone he’d become closer to more recently. At first, the five year age difference and fact that when they’d met, Finn was ten and rebellious to the idea of a new family, was difficult for them to overcome. But then, Kurt started bring a one Miss Rachel Berry around the house, and Finn became his new best friend, casually hanging out in the living room on movie nights and claiming that yes, eleven year old boys were allowed to be interested in musicals. (His actual level interest always became quickly clear with the rate at which he fell asleep during said musicals.)  
Finn’s crush on Rachel—while cute, but altogether premature—was what brought them together eventually, with Kurt having to gently let him down, because no Finn wasn’t allowed to continue his pursuit of Kurt’s best friend because while she basked in the compliments and having someone who would fetch her water or lemonade, Kurt knew it could get really awkward really fast.  
Finn wasn’t exactly crushed, soon after chasing after a girl in his grade, Quinn, and coming to Kurt on advice for impressing girls, since Kurt hung around them all the time. It was a strange friendship they formed, still only seeing each other on holidays and talking occasionally throughout the school year once Kurt had moved away, but when they got the chance to get together, Kurt enjoyed reveling in the idea of having a little brother and a step-mom, the family aspect of it all making him warm and happy in a way he’d pretty much given up on for a long while.  
*  
Burt picked him up at the airport, the wrinkles around his eyes lifting up when he spotted Kurt, a grin stretching on his weathered face.  
Kurt hurried over, carefully wrapping his arms around his father, feeling as warmly familiar as it always did, no matter how many months separated their visits.  
They drove to the house, chattering all the way. Kurt and his father had never been the talkative type when it came to their relationship, and things were sure to turn to normal soon, but their drives home from the airport, whether it was Kurt visiting home or Burt visiting New York, were the one time where they barely let a silent moment pass, filling each other in on all the things that required face-to-face communication, that weren’t simply passed through a telephone connection.  
Kurt asked about Burt’s health, a common topic of concern, and was waved away unconcernedly, as expected, before continuing on to discussions of Carole, Finn, and the shop. Burt asked about school, acting roles, and the ever-dreading questioning of Kurt’s love life, to which he generally replied non-committedly since he broke up with Adam years prior.  
*  
They pulled up to the house, and Burt answered his question of where Finn was, noticing his car was gone, replying, “at the shop,” before trying to help Kurt with his bags. It was a short battle, Kurt eventually conceding and allowing Burt to take just his carry-on and a fairly large, but light, duffel-bag, both of which Burt deposited at the entry way of their home before stalking off to the kitchen and announcing he’d have some drinks ready in a few minutes.  
Kurt took the opportunity to drag the majority of his bags upstairs to his old room, swinging the door open on its hinges and startling backward at the muffled shout that came from inside his room. His heart rate started to slow back down when a head popped out from the comforter of his old bed, an initially frightened looking teenage boy with sharp, strong features and a mop of light blond hair.  
“You must be Kurt,” the boy said, his face relaxing, terror washing away from his eyes. “I’m Sam, uh, I meant to take all my stuff downstairs early, but, you know, I got tired and passed out, and you kinda just scared the crap at me, but that was my fault, so sorry about that, because it looks like I scared you, too.”  
Kurt just watched him amusedly with an arched eyebrow, before coming to his senses. “Yes, hi, I’m Kurt. Nice to meet you.”  
“Same. I’ll just, uh, grab all my stuff.”  
“It’s not—you don’t have to move all of your things; it’s fine. Just maybe grab the necessities, but you’re welcome to keep your stuff where they are and come in here to get them.”  
“Oh. Well, cool man. Thanks.” Sam hoisted himself out of bed, grabbing his sweatpants from the floor and pulling them on over his boxers, apparently deciding to continue forgoing the shirt.  
“I feel kind of bad that I’m moving you from your room,” Kurt said, setting his bags down and pulling out the items necessary for hanging up immediately.  
“Nah, don’t worry about it. It was your room first, right? And the couch is comfy. I’ve passed out there a few times.”  
“Comforting,” Kurt commented lightly, a smile on his face as he watched Sam pile what he must have considered “necessities” into his arms.  
Sam moved his shoulder in a sad attempt at a wave good-bye, cheerfully shouting, “See you at the weekly Friday family dinner,” and turning to leave.  
He was pretty young, but damn was Sam muscular for a teenager. His body’s age seemed a little older than it really was, and Kurt repeated that to himself as he watched the muscles shift in Sam’s back as he walked out of the room, strong arms carrying the pile of his belongings, and Kurt tried to feel a little less creepy at ogling his brother’s seventeen year old friend.


	2. Chapter 2

Adjusting to a new person in his house was a little different than Kurt expected. Most of his life it had been just Kurt and his dad, only with the addition of Carole and Finn later in Kurt’s teen years. Soon after, he was off to New York with Rachel, only visiting occasionally for holidays and a week or two during summer.  
He felt more and more like a houseguest in his own home, which wasn’t uncommon in his visits that generally lasted a week or so, but for this longer stay he expected it to be a little different.  
It wasn’t, though, and Kurt was having to get used to the ease that Sam and Finn seemed to have where he just didn’t. Sam was another story completely on his own. Where Finn had lived there for several years, Sam’s stay had been a matter of months, but that didn’t have any effect on his apparent comfort level. Kurt was steadily getting used to leaving for his morning run and finding Sam sprawled out, hanging halfway off the couch with his blanket barely covering his legs, leaving his shirtless torso wonderfully on display.   
Really, Kurt was mostly jealous at his own inability to be that slender and cut, particularly when he was Sam’s age and was more soft than anything. He’d built up since then, of course, but it didn’t tamper the mild pangs of envy when he allowed himself a glance or two before heading out the door, shutting it quietly behind him so as to not wake the sleeping boy.   
He spent his run musing over the boy, his unique personality and tendency to talk at Kurt a lot with a false kind of confidence that was more endearing than it was actually fake. The previous night Finn had convinced Kurt to stay in and watch a movie with them rather than go out, and Sam spent much of it comparing and contrasting the abilities of each superhero in the movie and how he himself would fit into the mix. Kurt, not necessarily interested in the film itself, listened in amusement, still unable to pin down Sam’s personality, and perhaps just recognizing the fact that Sam was just…Sam.   
He was grateful, at the very least, that regardless of how close Finn and Sam seemed to be, they still made him feel comfortable and welcome hanging out with them. Kurt, while already feeling a little more isolated being six years older than them, had very few remaining friends in Lima, and even fewer that he still spoke to. So, while hanging out with a couple of seventeen year olds was certainly much different company than he generally kept in New York, he appreciated it all the same.  
That night Kurt decided to go out to Scandals like he had skipped out on the night before. Hanging out with his brother and Sam was fun and amusing, sure, but it’d been over two weeks since he left New York, and over a month since his fling with James had ended, and Kurt just needed a different kind of company for a night. 

*

Kurt crept quietly into the house, mindful of its sleeping occupants, but also of the fact that coming home at 4am, still a little tipsy and a lot disheveled, wasn’t something he wanted the whole family to witness. He’d stayed at the guy’s apartment (Kyle, he think it was), sobering up for just a couple hours before deeming himself ready to be behind the wheel, and he just wanted to be in his own bed already, exhausted and ready to pass out.   
He heard a loud sniffling noise and froze, turning the corner and noticing that the kitchen light was on. Chanting in his head please don’t be Dad, please don’t be Dad, please don’t be Dad, Kurt peeked into the lit room, and relaxed slightly when he saw it was just Sam, his anxiousness ebbing away. Concern took its place however, when he took in how Sam sat at the dining room table, hunched over with his head resting on folded arms, and he drew in another sniffle.  
“Sam?” Kurt said tentatively and the other boy shot up in surprise, on his feet in a flash and wiping his hands messily across his face to clear up the tears that didn’t quite stop flowing. He pulled himself together a little quicker than Kurt expected him to be able to, though.  
“You’re home. I was just…you know, couldn’t sleep,” Sam explained lamely, avoiding Kurt’s eyes, and trying to slide past him into the living room, but Kurt put a hand on his arm to stop him.  
“What’s wrong, Sam?”  
And there must have been something in Kurt’s voice, some comfort or authority that Sam buckled under, losing the little composure he’d been able to muster, and breaking down once more.  
Kurt gathered Sam into his arms, and the boy went willingly, gratefully. He wrapped his own arms around Kurt’s waist, crying into Kurt’s collar. They stood there for a few minutes, Sam getting increasingly quieter, finally silencing his sobs altogether, but not moving from his spot.  
“It was my sister’s birthday today,” Sam whispered against Kurt’s shoulder, his voice slightly muffled. “She turned ten. Double-digits and everything, and I missed it.”  
Kurt murmured a sympathetic, “Sam,” before the boy kept speaking, getting it off his chest in a soul-baring kind of way.  
“I love living here, I really do. I love McKinley and everyone here, but for a long time it was just…me and my siblings. I miss them so much, and I’m just missing things. She’s ten, and all I could do was pretend to be cheerful and wish her a happy birthday over the phone.” Sam pulled back a little to look Kurt in the eyes. “Did Finn ever tell you I was a stripper?”  
Kurt stared at him blankly before replying, “No. He didn’t.” And damn, this really wasn’t the time to be thinking about that.  
“Well, I was. It was alright, not really the part time job I expected to have in high school, but the money was so incredible, and we really needed it. I did everything for them while my parents just tried to make ends meet. And now it’s just—I’m not even there to give her a hug on her birthday, and it just sucks sometimes.”  
Sam buried his head back in Kurt’s neck, and Kurt could do nothing but hold him tighter, stroke along his back and whisper any encouragement he could come up with, mostly just repeating, “It’ll be okay,” until they just stood in silence.  
Sam finally loosened his hold around Kurt’s waist, his head dipping down to place one lingering kiss, a press of the lips, to Kurt’s collarbone. It was so light Kurt thought he might be imagining it, but he was simultaneously sure of it.  
He froze slightly, Sam felt it, reacting and stepping away to increase their distance.  
“Sorry, I—thanks. For listening, and…just thanks.”   
Sam ducked his head as he retreated, scrambling around the corner, and Kurt could hear his thump onto the couch like he’d done a full body flop onto the cushions.   
Kurt allowed himself a couple minutes, mulling about in the kitchen, taking tiny sips of a glass of water, swallowing down a couple of aspirin, and forcing his brain to quiet down a little, since it still wasn’t quite at full capacity. Finally, when his eyes started to close a little longer with each blink (and though he wouldn’t admit it, he’d hoped Sam had enough time in the living room to be drifting off to sleep), Kurt finally flicked the light off and navigated his way through the dark, heading for the stairs.   
He allowed himself one tiny glance to the couch, but it was just a dark mess of blankets. He hoped nevertheless that under everything was a peacefully sleeping boy, escaping his troubles through his dreams.


End file.
